


Pity Tips (and Happy Flirt)

by TuskFM



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Bartender Bucky Barnes, M/M, Meet-Cute, Valentine's Day, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Sam Wilson, they flirt and get together so it totally count as meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuskFM/pseuds/TuskFM
Summary: Carrie Fisher was right@buckme44i’m so excited for valentine’s day bc i work the bar and i’m gonna tell all my customers that my “gf” dumped me so I took another colleague shift. i’m gonna get so many pity tips you guys.10:47 pm · 12 Fev 19 ·14Retweets38Likes
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Pity Tips (and Happy Flirt)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this hilarious tweet](https://twitter.com/holy_schnitt/status/963481463227342848).
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not a bartender nor do I drink alcohol, so most of the bar talk was bullshitted out of thin air and five-minutes google search. Please enjoy!

**Carrie Fisher was right**  
_@buckme44_

> i’m so excited for valentine’s day bc i work the bar and i’m gonna tell all my customers that my “gf” dumped me so I took another colleague shift. i’m gonna get so many pity tips you guys.

10:47 pm · 12 Fev 19 ·  
 **14** Retweets **38** Likes  
!  
 **Roger that**  
 _@SGRoff_

> You’re just as bad as _@Roman_on_

!  
 **Carrie Fisher was right**  
 _@buckme44_

> No, I’m not, but she’ll skin me when she hears I thought about that before her *tongue emoji* *tongue emoji* *tongue emoji* *skull emoji*

!  
 **I know the Russian way**  
 _@Roman_on_

> You’re so disgustingly gay. Please stop giving me more reason to disappear you from this earth.

!  
 **Give me coffee or give me death**  
 _@dogsandarrows_

> Oh, cat fight!! :DD

Bucky doesn’t hate Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t love it either. He’s not averse to it, he just doesn’t care much about it. He’s not the bitter and mean single guy that shit on it and hate everyone that enjoys it, and he’s not that overly sweet and annoying boyfriend that piss off everyone in a mile.

On the rare occasion he had a boyfriend on the 14th of February, they would have a small dinner at home, drink some good wine and fuck through the night but that’s about it. Classic, simple, and that's enough.

So when the 14th comes rolling around and Fury tells him he’ll be working the night shift, he just shrugs and goes on with his day. He’ll buy himself some chocolate if he feels fancy when he gets home, but otherwise he’s not phased. He had already made plan to exchange shift with Monica anyway so she could do something with her new found girlfriend. Ah young love! So bright and joyful! He deftly dodged Monica’s blow to the back of his head and went away cackling like the asshole he is.

That’s how he found himself at ten p.m. in the middle of Brooklyn, serving cherry drinks in The Shield and trying to not gag at every pet names and awful flirting. But he also made plans to make this suffering profitable.

“Hey! What can I get you?” He asks a new couple that just sat at the bar.

“A scotch for me, and a gin tonic for the lovely lady over there.” The guy grins and brush her face with his fingertips.

“Coming right up.” Bucky says, but he tries his best to make a sad, rueful smile and linger a bit.

“You okay?” The guy asks, and Bucky clear his throat.

“Yeah no, sorry. You just look good together. Sorry.”

“No it’s okay.” The girl says with kind face.

“It’s just… My girlfriend just dumped me,” He announces with a gloomy voice. The girl’s eyes go huge while the guy frown and drop his shoulders. “I got a text this morning. We were supposed to meet for our second anniversary.” He fakes a sob and masterfully repress it. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your mood. I’ll leave you be.”

“You good dude?” The man asks him while his girlfriend gives him a pitiful smile and look at his guy with what looks like relief. _At least he won’t do that to me_ she must be thinking.

“Yeah, I took my friend’s shift, keeping busy. You know the deal. I’ll get by, just gotta get through the first few days.”

“Yeah, take care.” And the guy takes both their drinks and walk away. Bucky look at the seven dollars the girl slide with the drink’s money and he smiles to himself. It’s gonna be a _great_ night.

After the couple, and in the following hour are in no specific order: another three couples that look so relieve and also sad at his little story, at least ten other men dateless on a Valentine’s Day that bitch with him about the fucking cunt that his nonexistent ex is for at least 20 minutes, and even his fair share of women dumped and angry trying to piss off exes by having their best night ever. Every time, the single tear in his eye, sad smile and good look play everyone. He’s up to almost 90 dollars in two hours, at least thrice more than his usual tips. He’s beaming inside.

“Hey, what do you need?” He asks the new guy at the bar, short brunet with a very expensive looking golden watch at his wrist.

“Two whiskey please. On the rocks.” He grins and turns back to a lovely lady in a dark purple dress. Clint would like that color he thinks. Instead of the compassionate speech he gives to the singles, he goes for the lonely tear.

“Enjoy it man.” He says and sniffle.

“You good?” He frowns and falter, hesitant to be nice to Bucky when he’s got a girl waiting.

“Just got dumped this morning.” Bucky sighs and look away, as if to hide his tears. “She sent a text; told me she couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Do what?” Bucky shrugs toward his empty sleeve.

“Said she can’t fuck a cripple, too weird.” He’s so glad he thought about that, people are always uncomfortable when he mentions his disability out front, even more if he’s crude about it. The guy’s face is priceless.

“Shit man. That sucks.” There’s a long pause that Bucky very much enjoy, before the guy reach in his pocket. “Fuck that bitch, right?” He awkwardly says. Bucky almost snort but he gets a hold on himself.

“Yeah, I try. I try.” He looks down at the bar and take a shaky breath in. “That’s why I took my friend’s shift, you know, get me outta my head.”

“You’ll get through man, it’s just a bad phase but it’ll pass.” The guy gives him a small smile, push a couple more dollars in his hands and go back to his girlfriend. Ah, pity coupled with selfish interests, the best combination.  
He’s about to stealthy fist pump to himself when a voice reaches him.

“I’m sorry dude, you okay?” He turns his head to a man sitting at the bar in a nice deep blue button up, clean shaved goatee, bright brown eyes that, and Bucky knows what he’s talking about, are checking him out thoroughly.

“Yeah, I am now.” Bucky tucks the bills in his back pocket and join the guy in two smooth steps.

“Yeah?” The guy frowns.

“It’s Valentine’s day, people love a good sad story to feel better about themselves, and I’m gay as a three dollar bill.” He leans on the bar and tuck his lower lip between his teeth. The guy barks out a laugh.

“Shit I wasn’t expecting that, not gonna lie.” But he doesn’t look upset, he just chuckles to himself and still check out Bucky’s chest and shoulders. This night keeps getting better and better for Bucky.

“No one expect the Spanish inquisition.” He answers in one of his dumb -and endearing if he says so himself; not according to Steve, but the guy is his best friend so his opinion doesn’t matter, he’s full of shit- witty liner. The guy is now laughing out loud, like, head thrown back, throat open, loud and clear. Either he wants in his pants or they have the same sense of humor. Either way, Bucky counts this as a win.

“Damn, you’re something.” The guy looks back at him, and that’s a sexy smirk if Bucky ever saw one.

“What can I get you…?” He deliberately let his tone drop, and the guy cocks his head a bit on the left. Adorable and sexy at the same time, damn.

“Sam.” He offers with a subdued smile, but still pleased.

“What can I get you _Sam_?” He tries not to accentuate the name too much, but it drops like honey on his tongue. Sam. What a nice name. It suits him. _Sam_.

“A Daiquiri and your name?” Sam asks and rub the ring at his left pinky, effectively catching Bucky attention on his hands. Fuck, that’s a dangerous move, one that make warmth pool under his ribs. But Bucky recover and gives him a cheeky grin while he busies himself with making the cocktail. He’s absolutely shameless in showing off his skills, because throwing a bottle full of alcohol with only one arm? That’s some sick moves if he says so himself.

“You can call me Bucky.” He tells Sam while he pushes the glass toward him as he drops a little blue umbrella in it.

“Why, an alias? Too shy?” Sam squeeze his fingers around the moist glass and it takes most of Bucky’s willpower to not drop his eyes at them.

“Nah, only my good friends call me that.” He finally says. There are customers coming to the bar, but he doesn’t want to leave, not yet. This is too fun.

“That what I am?”

“Hopefully sooner than later.” He offers a maybe less sexy but more genuine smile, at least he hopes. Bucky would like to stay there, because it’s fun flirting with Sam, but the other patrons at the bar are getting impatient. He sighs and drop his shoulders. “Please look sad and pitiful, there’s this new Yves Saint Laurent coat that I really need to finish my expensive hoe aesthetic.” He offers with a voluntary overly sad face.

As he walks away, he can hear Sam badly concealed snort and he shot him one last look before officially going back to work. Sam is giving his best -worst but it’s the thought that count- saddened expression. He even traces a crocodile tear down his cheek, the little shit. Bucky already loves him.

Eventually, after what feels like hours even though, rationally, he knows is only a relatively small rush during a slower night than usual. Few are the one hardy enough to bring their date to The Shield, rugged dive-in famous for the fights that breaks out almost every week. He collects around fifty in pity tips and get back to Sam when he sees him tuck his phone back in his pocket. He’s not sure if Sam spotted him or he just got tired of pianoting on it, but he grins when Bucky settle with his elbow in front of him.

“How’s the night going?”

“Less boring now.” Sam tilt his now empty glass. “Can I bother you for another one?” And the flirty grin is back on, hell yeah Bucky is loving this night. Money and sweet dude as hot as he’s funny? What more can a guy ask for?

“You can bother me as much as you wish, sweatheart.” Bucky overdo the honey-sweet tone and fetch another glass under the bar. He starts on another Daiquiri, while Sam watches him. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you sitting alone on Valentine’s Day in the worst dive-in Brooklyn has seen since the prohibition?”

“A friend of mine has a blind date, don’t ask me why it had to be today, I have no idea either. But I’m single and got nothing to do, so I’m her out.”

“Kind of you.” Bucky has to stop filling in his ‘perfect guy’ note in his head now, or he’ll break the wedding ring before his shift is over.

“Eh.” Sam shrugs. “She pays for my drink.” It’s a deflection, a joke, the kind that Bucky sees in most of his fuck up friends when they’re catched doing something good. And most of his friends were in the military or, some even and, government agents.

“Army?” He tries, because he’s been dumb brave like that. Too much hanging out with Steve in his formatting earlier years, that’s what it does to a sane guy.

“Please.” Sam says with the _bitch please_ intonation so clear it cut through the air. “Air force.” He adds with a big puffed out chest, radiating pride and fuck if it’s not a good look on him, assured and cocky.

“Ha, I see.” Bucky nods solemnly. “All in the looks, nothing in the brain.”

“Better than no brain and no looks.” Sam smirks; and it’s Bucky’s turn to _bitch please_ him.

“You see that?” He gestures to himself. “All 190 pounds of rationed-build muscles minus about 12 pounds of arm and with some fucked up ptsd sprinkled over it. All army made, 100% American.” He smiles, and Sam shake his head.

“I’ll have you know; the army doesn’t have the monopole for weird trauma and lost limb somewhere in sand."

“Yeah?” Bucky loses his smile and get more serious, trying to be respectful.

“Yeah. I went as a pararescue, jumping from planes twice a week, came back without a best friend and a fear of height.” Sam doesn’t look too sad, but his smile lost a bit of its brightness. “Weird how it goes, right?”

“Sorry to hear that.” Sam shrugs and take another drink.

“It’s fine. You get used to it.” _Used to the pain_ , Bucky thinks to himself. It’s crazy how resilient humans are.

“Let me offer you one drink, to apologize for bringing down the mood, okay?” Bucky offers.

“No need to apologize, we’re both fucking this conversation up.”

“Well, can I offer you one to thank you for gracing this night with your pretty face?” Sam looks down with a soft chuckle, and Bucky’s sure that’s a faint blush creeping up his cheekbone -and those cheekbones, damn. They’re sharp, forming a soft slope under his eyes that Bucky adores, framing his big smile.

“As long as it’s one of your fancy, colorful cocktail that you shake with that bottle of yours.” Sam found his footing again, the darker look in his eyes gone. He’s grinning again, and Bucky consider his job done. He enjoys a couple of showing off while Sam watches him in silence, if usual bar noise can count as silence.

“What you said about your fake girlfriend leaving cause of that arm,” Sam starts when Bucky push a Cosmopolitan in front of him. “Any of it true?”

“Yeah.” Bucky nods and tries to find the right words. “There’s shitty people anywhere. I got my fair share of weird fetishists, it’s easy to shake them off now. Not so much when I first lost my arm, that was kinda traumatic you know, to see someone pop a boner when you show them the shitty piece of skin left from an IED.” He laughs but even to his ears it sounds hollow. “Someone ruling your disability as a no from the get go, that doesn’t get easier though. You just learn to ignore the hurt.” He shrugs.

“That’s shitty man. Let’s hope I never get exes as bad as yours.” And Bucky has to laugh. He just has to, because he’s so tired of hearing half assed apologies, Sam crude humor almost sent him in a giggling fit.

“Oh god,” he sighs and stand up straight after being double over in silent cackle. 

“You’re one of a kind Sam.”

“I know.” Is all he says as he sips his bright pink drink, and his eyes glint just above the rim of his glass.

It’s with almost 200 dollars in tips in his pocket that he comes back to Sam, happy as a clam and ready to not finish his night so early. He usually gets around 60 dollars, and that’s on a good night, so yeah, he’s happy with himself. He should do this more often

“Hey there.” He slides his elbow at the bar and wink at Sam.

“Hello sunshine.” And Bucky blushes hot and red, he can feel it. Sam laughs, delighted, while Bucky tries to hide his embarrassment. No one ever calls him sunshine! What the fuck.

“Your date left?” He says when he looks around the bar that’s emptying as they speak.

“Yeah, it went well. She has lots of details to give me tomorrow, but for now I’m free.” And he says that with a tiny smile, so Bucky decide to shoot his shoot.

“I’m getting off in fiftenn minutes, and if I’m lucky in an hour too?” he says because why should he be the only one to blush? And Sam does blush, vivid dark spots color his cheeks under his eyes, but he recoil as well.

“You were serious?” And Bucky deflates. Shit.

“Well, yeah.” And he straightens up, closes off shoulders. “I flirt with people, that’s what bartender do, it gets you money. But I don’t talk about my past with anyone.” He’s about to leave him be when Sam catches his wrist.

“Hey no, don’t leave.” He releases his wrist, and Bucky looks back at him. “I thought this wouldn’t get anywhere. Like you said, bartenders flirt and I was enjoying it as a fun thing I got for a couple of hours, nothing more.”

“Please tell me there’s a ‘but’.” _Please any gods looking down at my useless, gay ass, let there be a but_ he thinks. Sam smiles.

“But,” And the asshole dares to pause. “Doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see that I was wrong. I’m gladly gonna wait those fifteen minutes to see where this goes.

“Hopefully with orgasms for both of us.” Bucky answers trying to be coy; and leaves with a “see you soon” under Sam very pleased eyes.

Indeed, the night ended with orgasms. Plural, for each of them. Sam is really as cocky in the sheets as in really life, and it’s a delight. It starts on a wall, then a couch then the bed, and bed again. The next day start with another round of orgasms on deliciously soar muscles, as well as a homecooked breakfast and a number scribbled on a piece of paper.

Overall, Bucky is pretty happy with how his Valentine’s Day went. 10/10 would do again. He says so on his twitter account.

**Author's Note:**

> Was Bucky’s love for YSL inspired by Sebastian Stan own jacket collection? Absolutely not. Sam’s ring inspired by the new Falcon and Winter Solider set pic? I don’t know what you’re talking about, nope.
> 
> Anyway, leave a kudo if you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!


End file.
